


Refuge

by exhostar



Category: Splatoon
Genre: Crushes, F/F, Fluff, Octo Expansion Spoilers, Pre-Relationship, Useless Lesbians, cap’n cuttlefish is here too but no one actually cares about him, like major spoilers at the start please be careful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 05:49:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15136490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exhostar/pseuds/exhostar
Summary: “I absolutely hate her,” she declared as soon as she stepped out of the grate. “I hate her so much.”(In which Agent 3 struggles to get along with Agent 8.)





	Refuge

She didn’t know what she was doing before. It probably didn’t matter either.

All Agent 3 had remembered was busting through the thin, sheet metal ceiling, knees buckling under the force of the impact as the device in her hand beeped wildly, red lights flashing beneath her fingertips. She willed herself to ignore the pain, used her momentum to flip her position and force the telephone away with her fist, barreling into the rest of the blender using her shoulder to take the brunt of the force. It spilled apart in a violent burst of plastic, the four ‘thangs’ scattered on the floor in pitiful little pieces, sending the two cephalopods inside flying towards the ground. Sharp shards of glass found their way into her hands and arms, and she could do nothing but lay in a crumpled heap, cringing and wincing in the pain. The sounds of anxious talking and gasped breaths rang in her ears, above the sound of her heart caught in her throat. She didn’t even have time to realise the marbled ink-like substance, shimmering a rich aqua-green, creeping up the side of her body until she was completely out cold.

 

* * *

 

When she stirred again, barely awake, she felt like she was being hefted up. Strong yet soft hands held her steady, one arm wrapped around her torso, the other hooked gently under her legs. Her eyes, still hazy with daze, flicked over to her carrier’s, who let out a quiet giggle, the delicate sound barely audible to anyone but the two of them. Flashing a small smile before she drifted off again, the agent missed the girl’s face flush a pale blue.

 

* * *

 

A dull thud beside her is what woke her up for real.

Shifting her weight, her entire body was sore, back aching and limbs throbbing. She could feel her heart thumping in her ears as she pushed herself up, slowly taking in her surroundings. The sky was an angry orange, the sun only just beginning to rise from the horizon, the tall and dark cityscape sitting just before it. Yet, it wasn’t dark, the small star cast a delicate and shimmering warm glow on everyone around her. From behind her, she could hear the Captain hopping from side to side, and the gasped breaths from the two idols snuggling, the smaller one struggling and thrashing below the younger one’s grasp. Taking a look in front of her, she found an octoling gazing at her unabashedly, meeting her eyes andbreaking into a grin as soon as they did, a warm cobalt dusting her cheeks. The octoling had two tentacles framing her face, curled at the tips, and they hung down loosely from her head, the limbs much thinner than her aggressive counterparts’. She brought her hand up to her face, cupping her cheek as she gazed at her newfound friends.

The agent frowned, but she didn’t speak.

Instead, the girl moved to sit on the edge of the floating stage, staring out into the sky with narrowed eyes. She was hesitant to join into the conversation - they seemed happy as is. Loneliness bit at her as she overheard Pearl animatedly sharing how her partner-in-crime hacked into the metro’s system, embellishing the story with exaggerated details, all while Marina mumbled embarrassedly, flustered with all the unwarranted praise. “It wasn’t that difficult Pearlie,” she would insist, “it was mostly loading up the signal suppressor in time before the trace had run out,” she explained; the smaller girl stared at her as if she was speaking Octarian. (Or not, she knew the rich idol was taught to speak it when she was younger.)

Agent 8 - as Three had heard the octoling referred to, turned to face the sunrise. She came up behind the inkling, standing and taking in the sight in pure awe, before glancing down at her, causing the squid to shift uncomfortably. The girl got the hint though, fortunately, and looked back up into the clouds.

“Hey, look!” the shortest inkling exclaimed, pointing at the view and dragging her girlfriend over excitedly to have a look. The Captain followed suit and settled down beside the oldest agent, shaking slightly as he handled his weight. All five of them stayed there for a while, in complete silence, staring out into the rising sun, sky slowly blooming with more and more blue as the small army of helicopters made their way towards the city. Fluffy, silverish clouds marred the bright sky, swirling in the air as they drew over the sun and diffusing its strong rays. Three couldn’t help but grow bored, itching to get off the stage and do something, anything.

Or maybe it was to get away from Agent 8.

Speaking of, the octoling had wormed her way between Cuttlefish and Three, happily squished between the two despite the lack of space. Trying to move away, get some room between them, the agent suddenly froze and stiffened when Eight had lay her head on her, closing her eyes and relaxing her muscles, letting her shoulders fall and legs hang loosely off the side. She didn’t know what to do with this girl she’d never met in her entire life resting so easily against her, relaxed and easy breaths ghosting over her neck and chest. The others noticed her predicament, quietly laughing and teasing her.

Marina was the first to comment, giggling into her hand as she sat down as well, drawing her girlfriend into her lap. “Gosh, look at them two!” she exclaimed with a cute grin, wrapping an arm around Pearl’s waist, the latter crossing her arms to seemingly huff and refuse, only to ‘reluctantly’ lean into the embrace. “I was so worried for Eight you know, when was the last time she had rested?”

“Not in a long while, ‘n all those battles musta taken the energy outta her,” she replied, glancing at the small octoling with a smile. “I know whatcha mean when you were worried, the girl just wouldn’t take it easy.” Agent 3 felt herself heating up, inadvertently drawing attention to herself as they looked at Eight, buried her face into the cowl of her cape, unable to move much more than that.

“She really deserves it,” the captain declared. “If it weren’t for her, we never would’ve escaped!”

The DJ nodded. “Not to mention how she saved the whole world.”

Pearl huffed, straightening her back. “Oi, don’t forget who sent that statue flying! Booyah!” Marina clutched at her ears in mock complaint, resulting in a playful slap on the arm.

The three of them laughed, and the agent wondered how much she had missed. No matter how selfish it sounded, she wanted them to bring up how she’d saved them from the blender, responded to the distress call. They didn’t, and Three sighed.

She looked down at the octoling again. Her arms were brought close to her chest, one gripping at the other’s shoulder endearingly, chest rising and falling with every tired breath. Even one of the long, rich pinkish tendrils had entwined itself around the inkling’s own, both swaying and bobbing to some gentle, unheard rhythm. Glancing away for a moment, the agent couldn’t help but furrow her eyebrows, wondering how Eight was so comfortable curled up beside her, snoring softly and quietly. As she stared at the smaller girl, a snicker from the far left caught her attention.

“Looks like someone’s pretty attached to you, huh?” the rapper snorted, grinning. She gently wrapped her hands around her DJ’s arms, squeezing slightly at the rich, dark skin. It seemed that the taller girl was beginning to doze off, head drooping onto Pearl’s. “Heh, not like I can talk. Look at this dork!”

Stirring slightly, Marina sleepily hummed, “Mmmwhat..?” tightening her grip on the small girl, burying herself further into the junction of her shoulder.

Pearl chuckled. “Nothing babe, don’t worry. You can go back to sleep.”

“....Aalllllrighty,” she mumbled, sighing contentedly.

The girl leaned over as best she could, ignoring the snoring captain between them. “Y’see what I mean? So clingy,” she smiled affectionately, glancing back at the taller girl. “It’s not always a bad thing though,” she added.

Three nodded, coughing slightly as she spoke for the first time in days. “I guess,” she whispered, voice weak and raspy. “Octarians are really… different to inklings.”

Staring off at the sky again, the idol snorted. “You can say that again.” Flicking her eyes over to the agent, she asked, “Hey, you live alone, right?”

“Yeah, why?” Her apartment wasn’t the smallest but it was cozy. Sometimes it got a little lonely, with all the extra space, since she didn’t take up much.

“Since, y’know, when we get back to Inkopolis, Eight won’t have anywhere to live.” Three could feel the dread creeping up her spine, knowing what the small inkling would ask next. “I was thinking she could live with you for a bit, or at least until she can afford her own rent.”

When the green-inked girl didn’t answer, Pearl continued talking. “Of course, me and Marina would be more than happy to take her in, but with our jobs and all, we’re always really busy.”

“So you think it’d be best for her to stay with me,” the agent mumbled, more of a statement than a question.

The pink squid nodded, smiling at her. “Yeah! You can teach her more about our culture and all that. At least she wouldn’t feel so alone, if she has you around.”

Three looked down at Eight, watching the octoling shift in her sleep, nuzzling further into the squid. She looked so peaceful like that, so carefree and worriless. She’d finally be in the ‘promised land’ that was so falsely idyllic, impossibly utopian. The agent sighed, knowing that the small girl would be crushed by her optimistic and naive self.

“Sure.”

 

* * *

 

Eyes darting about wildly, the octoling was like a small, excitable child. It was still very early in the morning, so the city wasn’t nearly as populated as it could be, but the squid agent had to keep a tight hold on the octoling’s hand to prevent her from scampering off over to something only vaguely interesting or colourful. The first couple times Eight had struggled her way out, it was to dart over to some storefronts, face flush against the glass as she stared at some vibrant, brightly coloured little toys and teddies, squeaking happily as she prodded on the window. Three had to drag her away (the girl was surprisingly hard to move) in fear of her smashing through the display as Marina laughed, and Pearl promised to buy the entire store for her later.

After that, Three weaved their fingers together, instead of just gripping onto her fist. The action immediately pacified the hyperactive octoling who seemed to so desperately want to run off again, but would glance up and see the squid’s exasperated face, determinedly looking ahead and refusing to look at her, and stop.

“Hey,” she mumbled through her cowl. “I know you haven’t got anywhere to stay so, uh, do you wanna crash at mine for a bit?” Her voice was soft and quiet, like the warm glow of the golden hour sun.

Eight, in contrast, was brash and loud. “Yes!” she grinned, a touch too happy. She seemed to blush slightly and instantly glance away. “I mean, um, yes, I would like that.”

If she’d noticed anything, she didn’t comment.

The walk to her apartment wasn’t a long one, and as soon as she unlocked the door, Eight immediately burst in, throwing it open carelessly. Three couldn’t help but cringe at the tinny echo of the slam, stroking it sympathetically as she closed it behind her. “I’ll make you some hot chocolate,” she offered as she gestured to the octoling to sit on the sofa.

“What’s hot chocolate?” the innocent girl asked as she sat cross-legged in the middle of the seat. “Is it some sort of weapon?”

Flicking the kettle on, Three huffed. “It’s a drink. Some people like coffee or tea but both taste horrible to me.” When it began to hiss, she scooped some of the sugary powder into two mugs, three heaped spoons. She brought it over, letting the octoling get a good grasp on hers without burning herself. “It tastes better made with milk though, but i ran out yesterday.”

The girl’s eyes instantly lit up when she tasted it. As she gulped down more, the inkling grabbed the TV remote and idly scrolled through some channels. They sat in silence, the octoling staring at the screen with wide eyes as she cradled the still-warm mug to her chest. “Is this what your life is like?” she whispered, barely audible over the mindless show blaring out of the speakers. Three chose to ignore her.

When it had ended, Three was about to show Eight to the spare room when she realised the girl had fallen asleep again. She sighed, gently carrying her over to her new bed and carefully tucking her in, resting her head against the litany of cushions scattered over the mattress and drawing the duvet over her small and soft body. Then she left without a word.

Curled up, the octoling smiled quietly to herself, letting out the faintest giggle as she pulled the covers tighter around herself.

 

* * *

 

One thing she learnt quickly was that octolings were even more touchy than she first assumed. And her first assumption was already extreme to begin with.

She’d just began to be used to having an octoling around, but it was still unnerving at times to remember her presence, and to know she was providing for someone she would have previously murdered in a heartbeat. Drifting into her own thoughts, the agent couldn’t help but wonder what exactly it was like for Eight, who seemed so blissfully innocent and happy to be around. It annoyed her, almost, resenting how cheerful the octoling was all the time.

Three’d had a long day in the canyon, helping out Four in some octarian skirmishes, and she wanted nothing more than to collapse on her ratty sofa, fall asleep for ten hours. Kicking the door open, she jumped in shock as she heard a loud, terrified squeak from below. Taking a glance down, she found the octoling (that she forgot she’d had) shaking on the floor in front of the entrance, having nearly been hit by the heavy door. The agent’s nose flared and she snarled, reaching for a gun that wasn’t there, before remembering about Eight. Instantly dropping her stance, she sighed quietly, inwardly wincing at the terrified and pained look on the poor girl’s face. She took a deep breath, rubbing at the bridge of her nose. “What are you doing,” she asked, more of a statement than anything.

Scuttling back, the octoling mumbled a quick, “w-waiting for you…” casting her gaze back on the floor. “Sorry,” the girl whispered, moving to curl back on the sofa. “I’ll leave you alone.”

Choosing to ignore her, Three dumped the small bag on her by the door, hung up her reflective jacket on the coat rack beside. Her ripped and dark cloak was draped over one hook, with the octoling’s old jacket just underneath, the armour lay scattered by the stand. “It’s getting pretty late, aren’t you going to sleep?”

“Huh?” the octoling whipped her head around, “Oh, I was waiting for you to come home! But i can sleep now.” With that, she hurriedly left the room, seemingly upset.

The inkling couldn’t bring herself to care, and stumbled into her bedroom, shedding off the rest of her clothes, throwing on a looser pair of shorts and a baggy tank top, and threw herself onto the unmade bed. She fell asleep quickly, sprawled out on her front tiredly across the scruffy mattress, an arm and half a leg hanging off it limply.

After a while, Eight - with a large, well-stuffed squid plushie in her grasp - slowly creaked the door open, sniffling slightly.

When Three had woken up again, she found the octoling clutching at her side, arms wrapped protectively around her, tentacles placid and unmoving, unlike the idle sways or excited curls of when the girl was awake. Shifting with a blush, she tried to escape Eight’s hold, but to no avail, and she let herself lie there for just a little longer, conflicting thoughts racing in her mind.

 

* * *

 

Three had started to struggle coming up with excuses for leaving the house more and more.

She would leave nearly every day, letting the poor lonely Eight sit around waiting for her to return. It was unnerving, she found, to be so close in proximity to an octoling.

On the occasion that she was home, Eight had insisted on clinging to her like sanitized ink. Like a shadow, she would follow the older girl around, eagerly asking about anything and everything to do with the surface, and how it worked. Her voice was so fast, so excited, and her actions reflected this, how she bounced about recklessly and threw herself around. It could probably count as a health and safety hazard, the agent remarked once after the girl very nearly sent a collection of mugs crashing to the ground, Three desperately grabbing them out of the air as the offender apologised profusely, looking as if she was near tears. Not to mention, in the same incident, she’d poured milk into the kettle, as if that wouldn’t end up a mess. Well, at least she meant well.

“Reeeee,” she called one day, dragging out the vowel as she lay flat on her stomach on the floor, kicking her legs up and down. “Reeree?” Eight never could sit still for longer than a minute, and she kept coming up with dumb nicknames. Some might’ve found it endearing, but Three found it incredibly irritating. She trudged into the living room, hands in the pockets of her oversized hoodie, the classic dark red of Zekko, that fell past her loose shorts.

“What,” the inkling groaned, tentacles twitching slightly, in a bad mood from her long string of lost battles. She wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone at the moment, and she just wanted to curl up alone. “And can you stop with the stupid nicknames?”

Pushing herself up to her knees, Eight cocked her head. “Huh?” she questioned, face furrowing as she tried to figure out what she did wrong.

“Call me by my actual name,” she grumbled. “It’s rude if you keep calling me some dumb number.”

“Actual name?”

The squid turned slightly. “Yeah. You know, Maisie.” The octoling was staring at her, almost in awe, mouthing the name to herself, before her face faltered.

“When will I get an actual name?” she asked quietly.

Maisie stared at her, eyebrows raising up in surprise, but her voice was just as gruff as before. “What do you mean?”

Eight finally met her eyes, only to quickly dart away. “I- I thought my name was going to be Eight forever.”

With that, the inkling sighed and left the room with an unreadable expression, leaving Eight all by herself. She inwardly panicked, wondering if she’d irritated Thre- no, Maisie by talking too much, knowing the girl wasn’t much of a conversationalist. She hated when she upset or annoyed her friend, and she wanted so desperately for her to care and to like her, but the squid seemed to always hate even being around Eight, finding some small excuse to leave.

Was she even allowed to have an ‘actual name’? Eight couldn’t help but wonder what she had to do to deserve one, or what hers would even sound like. Maisie, she whispered to herself, sinking back into the rough floor. She has such a cute name, oh, would I be allowed something as nice as that?

When Maisie returned, she found the octoling curled up in a ball, still lying on the cool, scruffy carpet. “You’ll get dust all over you if you stay like that,” she snarked, kneeling beside her. Springing up instantly, Eight nearly knocked her over when she heard her voice, squeaking out a desperate apology, still worried that her friend was annoyed.

Noticing the laptop in her arms, Eight asked, “What’s that for?”

Holding the device up to show her, she replied, “I uh, looked up some random naming site, and maybe you could find one you liked?”

Her eyes lit up, and she scampered onto the sofa and stared at Maisie, trying as best as she could to wait for the girl to catch up. Chuckling, the squid settled down beside her, tucking a leg underneath her and balancing the computer on her knee.

“W-wait, are you sure I’m allowed one? A name, I mean,” she clarified as the inkling shot her a confused look.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t you be?”

Cocking her head, Eight just nodded slightly, leaning against her friend while staring intently at the screen. “So, uh, what do you want it to sound l- ah,” half way through the question, she shyly placed a hand on the inkling’s arm, bringing it so it wrapped around her body, held her hand at her waist, before sinking deeper into her soft side, head resting just above her chest. Her hand stayed on top of the inkling’s, unmoving. Maisie’s voice hitched and broke, and she quickly brought her other hand to her mouth. The octoling, completely oblivious, ran her fingers over the keyboard, dragging the laptop closer to her.

She seemed eager enough, so the inkling let her scour the internet’s shitty database for a name as she tried her best not to move, and answer the innocent girl’s questions every so often, her voice squeaky and uncertain, still having not recovered.

What was she supposed to feel?

 

* * *

 

“I absolutely hate her,” she declared as soon as she stepped out of the grate. “I hate her so much.”

The other agent didn’t even look up from the book she was reading, sat on the bench in front of Cuttlefish Cabin. “Hey Mais.”

Storming over to her, Agent 3 gave out a huff and sat down beside her. Despite everything she’d been through, her age and her experience, the girl was still so childish with her feelings. “I hate everything about her.”

“Sure you do,” Four hummed, flicking the page over. “You hate her guts.”

“I do!” she insisted, voice nearly a hiss.

When the girl fixed her with a chiding look, Maisie snarled. “Why don’t you believe me?” she whined. “Sol!” she yelled as the other agent finally set down her book just to smirk at her. She was pissed.

Four -or as most knew her as, Solace - was a snarky and playful individual, while still retaining a calm and cool head. It was one of the many reasons why Marie had chosen her as the new agent, most likely, and though she was easy to hold a conversation with, even for someone like Maisie, she was oftentimes teasing or downright tedious to talk to. When Three had returned from the Deepsea Metro, she wound her up excessively over her “edgy” cape, calling her Shadow the Sea Urchin. She was such a smartass.

“Well, tell me about it,” she suggested, leaning back against the wall of the cabin. “Maybe if you explain it, I’ll understand it better.”

Letting out an exaggerated groan, the younger girl complained, “she’s just so… touchy! She always insists on cuddling with me and I’ve known her for what, a fortnight? Even less!” Solace nodded for her to continue. “Like, I just, don’t get why she cares so much about me. I swear, she sits at the door for hours on end just waiting for me to come back home! She literally grabbed my arm and wrapped me around her! I like- it makes me feel… I don’t know how I feel but I hate it!” the girl yelled, balling her hands into fists.

She blushed awkwardly, seemingly embarrassed at her outburst. “But, like, I feel so bad for her, Sol. She doesn’t even have a name.” Maisie took a deep breath. “She asked me if she was allowed to have one. I didn’t know what to say, it didn’t even cross my mind that she didn’t have a name. I-I barely started conversations with her, and I didn’t even once address her directly. I just… I hate this. Everything about this - about her.”

“I don’t wanna feel like this,” she repeated in a hushed mumble.

The older agent nodded again, humming in thought. “Well, I don’t exactly think you hate her,” she started, looking Maisie in the eye. She was looking down, keeping her hands under her thighs to stop them from fidgeting. “You should talk to her, properly get to know her.”

“But I-“ She breathed in. “I don’t get why she’s so clingy.”

“Just imagine this, yeah? You’ve risked your life trying to escape from some oppressive, militaristic society, and you realise you’ve got nothing. Then this girl offers you a place to live, food, warmth, shelter. You’d be grateful, wouldn’t you?” Solace raised an eyebrow, and the girl finally met her eyes. “I think she’s trying to show how thankful she is.”

Maisie opened her mouth to respond, then Sol added, with a playful smirk, “And I think you have a little crush on her too.”

Crying out in embarrassment, the younger squid hid her face, flushed an obvious bright blue. “No I don’t!” she insisted, voice squeaky and high-pitched. “Why would I? You have a crush on her!”

Solace gave her a pointed look.

 

* * *

 

She had a crush on Eight.

A couple days after her conversation with Solace, the octoling bounced after her, grinning and full of energy. “Maisie!” she exclaimed, buzzing with excitement. “Maisiee!!”

“Woah! Huh?” she grumbled, a flying Eight pouncing onto her as she woke up from her nap on the sofa. “Hey, carefu-” but it was too late, the excitable octoling barreling straight into her and knocking them both off the loveseat, with the two landing sprawled out on the floor. The girl beside her giggled embarrassedly, squeaking out a quiet apology. Maisie groaned, pushing herself up into a sitting position. “What did you want to tell me then?”

Sitting up herself, tucking her knees into her chest and rocking back and forth slightly, the octoling grinned. “I want to tell you my name!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms out. “Oh, only if you’re fine with it,” she added, worried that she’d overwhelm her friend again.

Maisie’s eyes lit up. “I’d love to hear it,” she assured her.

“Well, um,” the octoling started, gradually losing her confidence. “I think it sounds quite nice, but, I hope you like it.”

“Just tell me already,” she smiled, leaning back and resting on her arms. “I’m sure I’ll love it.”

Cupping her face, she quietly mumbled, “How about Scarlett?”

The inkling stared at her, replaying the name in her head over and over again. Fidgeting nervously, the octoling had nothing to say or do for once in her life, anxiously waiting for her friend’s opinion. As her gaze ran across her body, she couldn’t help but felt as if she did something wrong, that maybe it was too early to try and rename herself. It had only been a couple weeks, after all, and Maisie had barely talked to her in that time. Maybe she was just a burden, that the girl didn’t want-

“I think it’s perfect.”

Gasping in relief, Scarlett tackled the inkling onto the floor again, cuddling her tightly and letting the tears finally fall. Maisie stroked her back, trying her best to calm down and to comfort the girl so attached to her.

 

* * *

 

About a month after her escape, Scarlett and her friends sat in some out-of-town diner, all laughing and chatting over some lunch, catching up on each other’s lives. Pearl and Marina spoke about their new album, and some new opportunities that came up between then and the last time they talked. The two weren’t so worried about being recognised, since the place was so far away from the heart of the city. Listening intently, Maisie rested her head in her hand, drumming her fingers against the skin near her ear, while Scarlett bounced in her seat, full of excitement and energy. As much as they liked the captain, there was a unanimous and unspoken decision to leave him out of the meetup under the excuse that he was too busy with the New Squidbeak Splatoon, as well as catching up with his grandkids.

Glancing to her side, the squid smiled affectionately, watching as her friend, leant against the wall and sitting sideways, one leg outstretched into the other’s lap as she stuck her tongue out, attempting to build something or the other with the hoard of cutlery she’d stolen off the others. Her tentacles had completely stilled in pure concentration, curled slightly and unmoving. The idol’s comment had washed over her entirely, and when she realised she’d asked a question, Maisie stammered out a quiet, “I, uh, what?”

The shorter idol raised her eyebrows, giving a suggestive look that the inkling tried to ignore. “Oh, we were asking how you and Eight were getting along!” Marina smiled down at the small octoling, who had quickly grew bored of her fork tower and started scribbling on a thin napkin.

“Yeah, and you seem to be getting along real well with Eight-“

Maisie cut off her snide remark with a sharper-than necessary huff, trying to disguise her blush. “Her name is Scarlett.”

At this, her friend finally looked up, tuning into the conversation. “Huh?” she asked, glancing between her and the two idols.

Almost squealing with delight (and drawing a few annoyed glares), Marina clasped her hands together. “Scarlett!” she grinned. “That’s such a cute name,” she complimented, smiling further as the small girl looked up. “It suits you very well!”

“Eheh,” she smiled, unsure of how to take the praise. “Well, Maisie helped me choose.”

Glancing away, the inkling mumbled, “She chose it herself, I just gave her a list, y’know?” She dropped her tone slightly. “She did a good job.”

Scarlett lit up, toothy grin growing wider. “Oh! Th-thanks,” she exclaimed, just slightly too loud, voice high and squeaky.

Eying the two, Pearl raised her eyebrows, switching between the blushing, fidgety octoling, and the girl who determinedly looked anywhere but at her ‘friend’. She leaned into her girlfriend, grumbling into her shoulder, “these two are absolutely useless.” which earned an amused giggle. “We should help them out.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> haha i am TRASH for these two
> 
> hey, i really enjoyed writing this, so i hope you liked it! this was a birthday present for my friend (her name is LilyTrash here, you should really check her fics out, they’re amazing!) which was a few days ago, but i had to go through and edit everything, which is why i took so long to post, haha. anyway i really hoped you enjoyed reading this because i honestly bled for this, this was supposed to be a little drabble and look where we are now hahhh


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